


Teenage Defiance

by anasticklefics



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29806956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anasticklefics/pseuds/anasticklefics
Summary: After Harry gets mad and refuses to speak to him, Sirius starts telling him about his parents to make him relent a bit.
Relationships: Sirius Black & Harry Potter
Kudos: 19





	Teenage Defiance

Sirius could sometimes not stand to look at Harry. Lily’s eyes, James’ everything else, his own defiance, Remus’ determination. They’d only spent a mere year with him, and yet Harry had managed to turn into a mix of them all anyway. He couldn’t comprehend it and therefore didn’t try to.

He looked at him now, his jaw set in the way James’ used to when he was pissed off, his eyes storming like Lily’s. Sirius wondered if he would snap the way he himself used to, or visibly make himself calm down like Remus.

“Harry?” he tried, knowing he was walking on thin ice. Knowing Harry’s anger was directed toward _him_ and having no idea how to deal with it.

On one hand, teenage defiance, which he had once praised to the skies. Grateful that he was even around to get this type of scalding anger from his godson. How they had joked about what type of kid Harry would turn into. How hypocritical they would be as they raised him, unsure of where to draw the line when they themselves had never worried about crossing it.

On the other hand, he found Harry’s anger to be unfair. He hadn’t wanted to keep him in the dark about The Order, but who was he to defy Dumbledore? Who was he to think he could come back and set his own rules now of all times?

On the third, if people suddenly had three hands, the anger made him want to curl up and cry. Harry probably didn’t like that the little time they had together was being occupied with him ignoring him either, but Sirius was the helpless one in this scenario.

“Please talk to me,” he continued when Harry merely glanced up at him and then away. He hadn’t missed the way his face had softened, but that kid was more stubborn than you’d think and still didn’t reply.

“I _will_ beg,” he warned, and maybe he imagined the way Harry’s lips twitched, but he certainly didn’t imagine him turning away from him. To hide a smile or to get some space. Sirius wasn’t sure.

The kitchen was empty, Harry having entered as Sirius was getting his daily dose of just staring at a wall, their eyes meeting when Harry stopped in his tracks in the doorway. Sirius had fully expected him to turn on his heels and leave again, but as angry as Harry was, he seemed to draw the line at pettiness, even though Sirius would argue that the silent treatment was just as bad (he wasn’t about to say it).

They were sitting on opposite ends of the table, waiting for Merlin knows what. Sirius had no idea where the others were, but Harry hadn’t answered when he’d asked.

“You probably don’t even know yourself,” Sirius had teased, and Harry’s scowl had deepened.

“You know,” he said now, tilting his head at his godson. “Your father could hold a grudge for only a minute. All I needed to do was crack a joke and he was either shoving at me to shut up or full on laughing. He was laughing when he was shoving me too, mind you. Totally unable to be mad at his old friend. I mean, who could with this face?”

Harry’s curious glance at the mention of his father was quickly averted when Sirius beamed at him.

“Your mother, on the other hand.” Sirius whistled. “ _She_ could hold a grudge, all right, but you had to really have hurt her in order to get to that point. I thankfully never did. I wasn’t stupid, you know? I really thought she would eat James alive, but after turning her away when he first tried to hit on her when they were younger he realized he needed to pull himself together if he wanted to deserve her attention. And he did. Biggest transformation I’ve ever seen.”

Harry didn’t look away when Sirius caught his eye this time, his scowl having finally loosened.

“You, on the other hand,” Sirius continued. “seem to have fallen somewhere in the middle. I don’t think you will stay mad at me for the rest of your life, per se, but it seems I can’t get you to laugh immediately either. I reckon what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry. You know I didn’t want to do it.”

“I know.”

Sirius lit up. “He talks!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Being angry is tiring and- well, I’m angry enough at everyone else.”

“Oh?”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, not picking up on Sirius’ prompt. Later, then. Sirius wasn’t about to pry when he’d just made the kid talk to him again.

“Am I really like a mix of my parents?”

Sirius’ heart nearly broke at how small his voice sounded. How vulnerable.

“Yes. Oh, yes. I see so much of both of them in you.” He didn’t mention himself or Remus. Not the time.

“People always tell me I look like them.” Harry looked away again, though this time Sirius didn’t take it personally. “They rarely tell me how they were. As people, I mean.”

“Well.” Sirius stood and crossed the room, plopping down on the chair next to his godson. “Good thing you have their closest friends with you now.”

“Lupin told me a few things, back in third year. I just… I got so used to them being a topic that my aunt and uncle refused to talk about. And then, at Hogwarts- people were too busy talking about _me_ and how my parents were killed that I felt I knew just as little about them as before. Well, almost. I hadn’t known they were wizards, obviously.”

He fell silent, lips curling upward properly when Sirius knocked their knees together. “You can always ask me about them.”

“I know.”

“Like, seriously, I’ll spill all their dirty secrets. Well, mostly James’. Lily I respect too much.”

Harry let out a laugh, the mischief flickering across his face too familiar. “All right, then. Tell me about my dad.”

Sirius leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he pondered. “He started snoring really early on. Remus and I had planned on evicting him many times, but then he let me stay at his family home one summer after I got kicked out and I felt I couldn’t do that to him. Turns out his snoring is rather comforting when you’re in a predicament. Who knew?”

Harry’s grin made Sirius want to never stop talking. “I have no idea if I snore.”

“I’m sure you don’t.”

“Keep going.”

“Your father was very competitive, but was never a sore loser. He saw it all as a lesson and an urge to keep improving. He could be bloody annoying with his positivity, especially when you were already agitated yourself.”

Harry’s laugh was loud and heartfelt, which reminded him-

“He was also super ticklish. Like, you could just _look_ at his ribs and he’d be laughing. He had a surprisingly silent laugh when you really got him. A huge squirmer. I feel like my nose will never be the same.”

Harry’s grin had turned bashful.

“It’s no surprise that a group of boys always started play wrestling, which would naturally lead to tickling. Your father was too competitive to stay on the sidelines, even though he knew it would result in him being tickled to death. He always tried to fight back, though.”

“Did it work?”

“Sometimes. If everyone decided to gang up on one person. He had to be quick, though, because one giggle from him and we’d all attack him first.”

“Sounds terrible.”

“It was. But also fun. We never went overboard or anything.”

Harry rubbed at his neck. “I guess I’m just used to Fred and George. They can be ruthless. Mostly to Ron.”

“You manage to flee the tickles, huh?”

Harry seemed to do it out of habit, but he slapped Sirius’ hand away when he went to poke his side. They stared at each other, Harry with a sudden realization, and Sirius with glee.

“I wonder if you’re as bad as your father.”

“I’m sure I’m not?”

“You don’t sound sure.”

Harry crossed his arms. “I had never really experienced it until I befriended the Weasleys.”

Sirius had never really experienced it either until he’d befriended the Marauders. They sadly had more in common than he’d thought.

“Well, that just won’t do.”

Harry didn’t rise or move away or straight up leave the room. Only sat as Sirius scooted closer, allowing his fingertips to reach for his ribs before he started squirming. Curious, yet unable to handle it when it was happening. His laughter was uncertain, his smile shy. He sounded just like James, Sirius realized with a pang.

His squirming was more subdued. While James was all limbs, Harry seemed to be curling in on himself instead, always moving, hands gripping Sirius’ wrists, but much more calmer than James had ever been. Sirius didn’t know if his inexperience had any part in it, but he’d known the Weasleys for four years, after all. He was sure the twins had made him squirm properly before.

“Your ribs seem bad, but they really can’t beat your dad’s,” Sirius was saying. “Unless you’re just not the begging type. James could scream himself hoarse within seconds.”

Harry wasn’t even the talking type, apparently. He was all laughter, which only got louder the longer Sirius kept tickling him. The opposite of James in that aspect.

He stopped before he could try any other spot, mostly because he heard the sound of footsteps and knew Harry would get embarrassed if someone walked in on Sirius tickling him to pieces. Just like James.

Sirius didn’t forget about his sensitivity, however. Now that Harry was speaking to him again, he found several moments to sneak a poke to various spots that were traditionally ticklish, and Harry seemed to be following tradition, all right.

He was good at pretending as if nothing was happening when Sirius walked past and poked at his belly or squeezed his side, but his reactions were bigger when they were alone. The fact that he never asked him to stop, whether during or after the tickling, kept Sirius going. Maybe it was because he never was at it for too long, unlike what Harry had told him about the twins. Maybe because they’d both missed this familial playfulness. Sirius hadn’t expected to spend the weeks stuck in his old family home tickling his teenage godson, but then again it was only a small part of what they did. Harry was of a more quiet nature, but they’d talked enough to last a lifetime.

It wasn’t just them, either. Conversations with Ron and Hermione, with Remus, with Ginny and Fred and George. Sirius saw Harry in all his stages of familiarity with the people coming and going in that house. What he’d missed for the past 14 years, he felt he was gaining back in barely half a summer.

“Have you had your first kiss yet?” he asked him one night, the two of them alone in Harry and Ron’s temporary room.

Harry colored, but his refusal seemed genuine. “No.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

His godson laughed, all bashfulness. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Uh huh. There’s no one you like?”

The blush deepened. “No.”

“Still don’t believe you, but I’ll digress. But hey. If you ever need advice, all you have to do is reach out, okay?” He gave Harry’s knee a squeeze. “I- oh, come on, I didn’t even mean to tickle you just now.”

Harry had snatched his knee away, already laughing. The vulnerability of the moment having made him even more sensitive, or so Sirius assumed. “Sorry.”

“You’re ridiculous. How bad are your knees? I haven’t tried them properly yet.”

Rather than protesting, Harry just didn’t say a thing, and Sirius reached out again to squeeze without being stopped. It was strange, being so familiar after not having really known each other for too long. Even stranger was how normal this felt; as if they’d spent their entire lives being close. Sirius had no idea how Remus hadn’t hugged Harry to death when he became his teacher. Sirius could never be that strong.

“Okay, so upper body seems to be bad. Knees not as much, but still. Very ticklish. Is there a spot that _isn’t_ ticklish?”

He was just rambling, not expecting Harry to reply and being utterly surprised when he said, “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, is that a challenge?”

Sirius had an image of a toddler Harry, three or four maybe, letting his godfather make him squeal with laughter as they made a game out of testing all his tickle spots. That image was entirely made up, of course, but in another life this could’ve been an old tradition. Harry timidly allowing Sirius to turn him into a giggly mess as a teen, making him promise to not tell anyone but not being ready to fully let go of this thing of theirs.

This was as close as they would get to a tradition, and Sirius wasn’t about to waste it. “Can I try your thighs?”

Harry shrugged, not moving away as Sirius went to give them a squeeze, but reaching out to grab his hand with a gasp.

“Affirmative. Neck?”

They went from spot to spot, even ones Sirius knew were sensitive purely to make a thorough investigation, as he called it. Harry, never protesting, became a twitchy, giggly mess after a while, even though the whole experiment barely lasted a minute. Sirius reckoned even Harry had his limits, but there was one more spot Sirius was dying to try out - the one spot that had always killed James and had earned him many bloody noses.

“Feet?”

Harry didn’t hesitate as he stretched out his legs to give him access to his socked soles, toes twitching as Sirius moved his hands closer. Knowing it was risky to not hold the feet down, but not wanting to overstep. This whole game they had going was unbelievable as it was. He didn’t want to make Harry uncomfortable or make him not trust him. The moment Harry wanted him to stop, he would.

He wiggled his fingers against the arch of Harry’s right foot and earned himself yet another bloody nose, laughing despite the pain as Harry apologized over and over.

Their game had been completed.


End file.
